


walking into the sun

by closingdoors



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Bails mentions, Charity learns how to call a person home, F/F, Family Feels, this borders on m
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 14:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closingdoors/pseuds/closingdoors
Summary: A series of moments set prior to Vanity moving in together.





	walking into the sun

“It was like walking into the sun, being with you, it was like walking into the sun for the first time after a terribly long winter.”  
  
 **You Are The Warmest Place I've Ever Lived In, Azra T**

 

* * *

 

 **  
**Vanessa has a framed picture of Moses.

Charity notices it while she's bundling the boys into their coats one morning. Moses is trying to squirm away, more interested in the toys he has at Tug Ghyll than going to nursery, while Johnny - obedient little thing that he is - lets her zip him up and slip his mittens on. She catches Moses with one arm and pulls him towards her, his shoulder knocking against the stairs, rattling the picture frames. Her eyes glance over one of Moses, grinning at the camera while holding up his star chart, and it stops her in her tracks.

Moses takes her momentary paralysis as his time to escape. He darts past her and to the toy box, pulling out god knows what toy, but whatever it is, it's loud.

"What's all this racket then, hm?"

Charity blinks back into reality as Vanessa reaches the bottom of the stairs. Her girlfriend kisses her cheek in passing, making her way over to Moses, who shoves the toys back and makes googly-eyes at Vanessa.  _I know the feeling, kid,_ she thinks.

Vanessa has his coat on in a flash, reasoning that the quicker he gets to nursery the quicker he can come back and play. Moses clings to her as she stands and she settles him on her hip, so easily that Charity feels a brief twinge of jealousy. She quashes the feeling as Johnny wraps his arms around her legs and lets out a little sigh of contentment when she squeezes his shoulder. 

"Ready to go?"

"What?"

Vanessa raises her eyebrows. "Uh. Nursery. Work. Or were we just playing dress up?"

"I think you know my idea of dress up is a little more fun, babe."

"And not intended for little ears," Vanessa adds, grabbing her keys and making her way to the door. "Coming?"

Charity lets Johnny take her hand. She has dozens of photos of him - Moses too - on her phone. Countless amounts of Vanessa. None she's thought to display. Not so effortlessly, either. Vanessa hadn't drawn her attention to it, as though to prove a point to her. No. A picture of her little boy has simply become a part of the home.

"Yeah," she replies, delayed enough to make Vanessa frown. "Coming."  
  


* * *

 

  
After a particularly long shift at work, Charity finds herself trudging through drizzle towards Tug Ghyll. The lamplight radiates soft and warm through the curtained windows, and it helps thaw some of the cold creeping up her spine, already thinking of Vanessa and her smile and safe, open arms to wrap up in.  _I'm getting soft,_ she thinks, as she fishes her key out of her pocket and opens the door.

Vanessa and Tracy are sat on the sofa, each nursing a glass of wine, voices quiet at this late hour. Tracy gives her a wiggle of fingers in greeting. Vanessa turns, grins, and rises to greet her with a kiss. It goes on a little too long - Tracy clears her throat behind them - but Vanessa's eyes are bright when she pulls away and plops herself back down on the sofa.

"Help yourself," she says, gesturing to the open bottle of wine on the table. Her eyes soften as she takes in Charity's demeanour. "Or there's some orange hot chocolate in the cupboard."

Tracy coughs as she chokes on her sip of wine. "Sorry, did you just offer her  _hot chocolate?_ " 

"Ta," Charity replies as she heads over to the cupboard, ignoring Tracy's wide eyes.

Charity heats the milk and stirs in the powder with her back to the pair. Vanessa and Tracy speak in quieter tones than before, barely more than a whisper, but she doesn't attempt to eavesdrop. Though she and Vanessa have been together for months now, Tracy still seems to struggle with the domesticity that's developed; as though Charity cannot exist in that capacity. She tries to take it in her stride. She really does. After all, it's not like she's had the best track record. Every man, or woman, she's bedded has always been for some ulterior motive. For the security of their money and fancy homes and contacts. With Vanessa, it's just... it's just  _her._

She's so lost in her thoughts that she only comes out of them when a familiar pair of arms rope around her middle. Vanessa's chin settles on her shoulder. For a second they don't say anything at all. Charity ditches the teaspoon in the sink and cups her palms around the mug, feeling the warmth permeate her skin, and lifts it to her mouth to sip. Vanessa presses a kiss to her jaw when she lets out a soft hum of appreciation.

"Long day?" Vanessa asks.

"Chas decided not to turn up to her shift."

"So, she did what you did on a daily basis?"

"Excuse me, I'll have you know I work at least half of the shifts I'm supposed to. Besides, who is it I'm normally off with when I skive off?"

Vanessa's fingers flirt dangerously close to her waistband. "Well, unless you're having a hot affair, then I've some idea."

Vanessa's fingers retreat, leaving her skin cold in their wake. She turns Charity to face her, plucking the mug from her hands and taking a sip herself, passing the hot chocolate back with a thin liquid moustache on her upper lip. Charity laughs, bright and loud, leaning in to kiss it away. The taste lingers on her tongue after.

"How were the boys?" She asks, scanning the room and noting that Tracy - and the bottle of wine - has disappeared from the room.

"You know - their usual, hyperactive selves. Oh, that reminds me..."

Vanessa leaves her briefly, rifling through a stack of papers on the table. She presents one to Charity with a wary smile. 

"Johnny drew this today."

It's a line of stickmen and two houses. One house labelled, most likely with his teacher's help,  _Mummy's House,_ and the other  _Charity Pub._ She smothers her smile with her palm, especially when she sees the stickman version of Noah is drawn with a heavy frown. What makes her stop breathing however is the stickman next to  _Mummy,_ labelled  _Mummy Charity._

Vanessa curls her fingers through the loops of Charity's jeans. 

"I thought you'd like to see it," she murmurs.

Charity blinks rapidly.

"Thank you," she says hoarsely. She clears her throat. "Now I've something to put up at mine, eh? Pride and place on the fridge and all that."

Vanessa's watching her carefully. Charity sets the drawing to one side, even as her heart pounds, and stares right back. She's done being afraid. 

This, she thinks, is progress.  
  


* * *

  
Charity's painting her nails as Noah taps away on his phone when Ryan walks into the room. She looks up with a surprised smile as Noah's upper lip curls with disdain. She kicks his shin under the table, watching him wince.

"Ryan. I had no idea you were coming round."

Her son holds up a pale blue envelope and a small gift-wrapped box, setting it on the table in front of her. Charity blows on her freshly-painted nails before picking the envelope up, seeing  _Johnny_ scrawled on the front. 

"Vanessa told me it's his birthday this week," Ryan says, leaning against the back of the sofa. 

Charity's thumb ghosts over the ink. 

"You speak to Vanessa?"

"She's funny. I like funny people."

Noah sits up straight. "Am I supposed to get him something too?"

Charity's jaw drops. "Well, considering you barely remember  _my_ birthday - "

"But even  _Ryan_ got him something." 

She doesn't miss the jealous flash that passes through Noah's eyes when he glances over at his half-brother. 

"Vanessa's not going to hate you if you don't get him anything. Besides, the little tike's gonna be three. He'll hardly remember. Just make it up to him next year."

Noah scowls. "You really think there's gonna be a next year?"

Charity feels her face warm. Ryan looks down at his feet, kind enough to pretend he's not listening. Noah slumps back down in his seat and engrosses himself in his phone again.

"Yeah, actually," she says into the silence. In the corner of her eye, she watches Ryan smile. "I think there'll be plenty of next years. So you'd better remember the date. And Vanessa's birthday, while you're at it."

Noah rolls his eyes and leaves the table. She doesn't have the energy to argue with him. He'll only have some cold retort anyway, too much like her for his own good. Ryan settles in the empty seat he'd left behind, eyeing Charity knowingly. She's sure her cheeks are burning bright red.

"Oh, shut up."  
  


* * *

 

  
Vanessa stumbles into the cellar with a panicked-expression.

"What is it? What's wrong?" 

Charity places the magazine she'd been reading down, glancing over her shoulder at her girlfriend.

"Nothing's the matter."

"You said it was urgent."

"It is."

"But nothing's wrong?"

Charity stands, approaching Vanessa. She kisses the crease on her forehead as her face scrunches up in confusion.

"Then what is it?"

Charity grins as she leans in, close enough for their lips to brush when she speaks, enough to feel Vanessa's sharp and panicked breaths against her skin.

"Why, Miss Woodfield, don't you pay attention to the date?"

"The - " She stops, a stern look flitting across her face this time. " _Charity,_ you made me leave work early because of that?"

"I'll make it worth your while."

"You sentimental idiot," Vanessa murmurs, before Charity catches her lips in a kiss.

Vanessa sways towards her, the anger slipping from her body as Charity settles her hands on the small of her back. She makes a little noise of encouragement which Charity takes as a good sign, letting her tongue slip past her lips, the way she had the first time they'd kissed down here, exactly a year and a day ago.

Vanessa startles when Charity pushes her down into the chair they'd shared, dropping down on her knees and popping the button of her jeans open.

"Charity, what're you doing?"

"Would've thought that was fairly obvious by now, babe. I'm hardly down here to propose, am I?"

She freezes. Vanessa stares down at her with wide eyes. 

Charity clears her throat and stands. "You know what, maybe you had a point about work - "

"Charity - "

"I've got a bar full of people and a very angry Chas hanging around, so - "

"Charity, will you shut up and listen to me?"

Vanessa stands too, buttoning her jeans back up, worrying her bottom lip. Every bone in Charity's body is ready to run. She can feel her hands shaking - no, never mind that. Her entire body shaking.

"I don't..." Vanessa pauses, pushing her hair out of her face. "I love you, Charity."

Charity swallows past the lump in her throat. "Back at you, kid." 

"But you know - and I hope you know - I don't expect anything from you."

"Shouldn't you?"

Charity looks down when Vanessa's head tilts to the side. 

"I only expect what you can give to me. That's always enough."

She finds herself shrugging at the statement, as petulant as Noah would. 

"Please look at me."

Though every instinct in her tells her to leave, she cannot resist the siren song of Vanessa. She looks up to find her girlfriend watching her with kind eyes. Blue eyes. Bails had had the same colour - but they had been cold, and cruel, and all the warmth had been a façade. It never feels like that when Vanessa looks at her.

"You're enough for me, you know."

"I know."

Vanessa smiles, drifting closer.

"But if you're ever ready to ask, I already know my answer." 

Charity slips her arms around Vanessa, the panic already fading. She always makes it so  _easy,_ being with her. She brightens every dark corner of Charity's mind.

"Oh yeah?"

Vanessa hums in reply, playing with the baby hairs on Charity's neck. 

"And what would that be?" 

"Oh, now that would just be giving it away, wouldn't it?"

"It would," Charity concedes. She's already pressing Vanessa back down into the chair. "Then I guess I'll just have to look forward to it, won't I?"

 

* * *

 

  
After Kim Tate, a little bit of fear manages to creep its way in.

Charity curls up on the sofa at Tug Ghyll after giving up on sleep. She turns the television on and mutes it, eyes hazing over until the images onscreen are just revolving colours. 

The fear gnaws away at her. The past, she thinks she'd label it, fear of the past. Everything she's ever done has had repercussions, and maybe one time she might've manipulated them, used them to her advantage, now she just wants to be left alone to her new life with Vanessa. She doesn't want anymore of her past crawling out of the woodwork. There's too many people that want to hurt her. Could hurt Vanessa to get to her.

After all, even Bails had managed to worm his way in. He had stood in this very room - the room where she feeds Johnny and Moses their breakfast every morning; where Noah and Ryan watch disgusting TV shows together; the room where she and Vanessa succumb to sleep if they can't make it upstairs. He had stood in the place she calls home, like it's no big deal. Like he could easily take her again, touch her against her will.

She slams her eyes closed as her eyes sting with tears.  _No more,_ she wills her brain, but images of Zoe Tate come tumbling forward. The woman who'd manipulated her very first desires towards a woman, who'd done everything in her power to control Charity, use her as a pawn against her brother. Once again, she had been nothing more than a possession, existing for other peoples' pleasure. Something to be used and discarded - ultimately worthless.

"Charity?"

She startles at the soft touch against her shoulder, twisting round to find Vanessa making her way around the sofa. 

"Go back to bed," Charity says roughly, even as Vanessa sits down beside her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Vanessa gives her a pointed look. "We've been over this. You _can_ tell me if something's happened."

There's no words for the hollow hurt in the pit of her stomach, though. No way to describe the chill at the back of her neck when she thinks about how few feet away Bails had sat in the same room as her. 

Charity curls her hand around the back of Vanessa's neck, pulling her towards her. Their lips crash together and Vanessa lets out of a soft  _oof._

There are no words for this, either. No words for the warmth that stirs in her stomach, the soft way Vanessa touches her, the feel of her skin beneath her fingertips. 

Vanessa lets her push her flat on to her back, discarding her pyjama top along the way, gasping against Charity's cheek when her fingers slip under the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. No - there is no word for this, only feeling. And it's  _good._ Not just on a physical level, but there's a certain freedom when she and Vanessa are together. A lack of expectation, of pressure. She could stop this right now, if she wanted. She'd lived too long thinking she couldn't. 

Vanessa emits a soft sigh with her release, almost like liquid in her arms. She dots kisses along the line of Charity's jaw before dropping her head down on the sofa cushions, cupping Charity's face in her hands. 

"You want to tell me what that was about?"

Charity's throat clogs.  _This_ is the difference. Vanessa doesn't just take. She doesn't roll over and go back to sleep. She's patient, and far more than Charity deserves, and she loves her.

"I've done a lot of wrong to people in my life, babe. A lot of it is coming back to haunt me." 

Vanessa presses a kiss to the tip of her nose.

"But you've done right by the people that matter, Charity Dingle." 

Charity nods. "I know. I know." 

"Do you?" 

"Flamin' hell, babe, you ever thought about becoming a therapist?" 

"Maybe for the right patient, I would."

She has no witty retort for that. Vanessa pulls her down to meet her lips in a kiss. It's gentle, the way Vanessa handles her, on nights like these. Soft in a way no-one ever has been with her. There's a reason she's always been sharp edges. Vanessa seems to be the first person to try and sand them down. 

Maybe Bails had stood in this room, but he doesn't get to touch her again. Only Vanessa, as she curls her thigh around Charity's hip, her hand on a sure path down the length of Charity's stomach. He had been cold, and distant. He had taken and taken and he had  _hurt._ Vanessa threads her fingers through Charity's hair, cupping the back of her neck, soft and steadying as she next kisses her and her hand finally reaches its destination. 

The past can rot, for all she cares.

She's got her future right here.

 

 

 


End file.
